


Bibliophile

by roxaneros



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: A lot of cringe, Anal Plug, Comedy, Kyphon and Loog, M/M, Misunderstandings, Rimming, Ye Olden Erotica
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-13 10:49:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28652286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roxaneros/pseuds/roxaneros
Summary: Dimitri is honored that Felix will accept the association of being the Kyphon to Dimitri's Loog. Unfortunately, things get more complicated after the discovery of certain suppressed historical accounts of Kyphon and Loog's less well-known exploits together.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Comments: 13
Kudos: 118





	Bibliophile

“An opera?” Felix said with a blank expression. 

“Yes,” Dimitri replied nervously. “An opera.” 

“You got me… an opera?” Felix asked again. 

“I just thought, well, you’ve spent the last few months in Fraldarius territory doing so much fine work, your return to Fhirdiad ought to be… special,” Dimitri admitted. 

“And so you had someone write an opera. About Kyphon and Loog.” 

Dimitri couldn’t take it anymore. He broke Felix’s gaze, stared down at the other man’s boots. 

“Yes?” 

Felix shifted slightly and crossed his arms. Dimitri heard him sigh through his nose. 

“Alright,” he finally said. Dimitri jerked his head back up. Felix was not the most expressive man on his best days, but right now his face was unreadable. 

“Alright?” Dimitri confirmed. 

“I like opera,” Felix said brusquely. “And while I find tales of chivalry useless, at least this one has some historical basis.” 

“Yes,” Dimitri said with some relief. “Yes, I believe it does.” 

***

Two months later, for Dimitri’s birthday, Duke Felix Fraldarius presented the king with a clasp for his cloak in the shape of a gryphon. 

“I take it you enjoyed the opera then?” Dimitri asked with a hesitant smile as he affixed the pin to his shoulder. “This is the symbol of Loog, no?” 

“Shut up,” Felix said darkly. “Just accept the gift.” 

“Thank you, Felix,” Dimitri said, trying not to fixate too much on the rush of warmth that seemed to be expanding in his chest. He and Felix were friends again. After so many agonizing years, Felix did more than just simply tolerate him. 

“That aria in the third act,” Felix finally muttered, “I’d like the sheet music sometime. If you have it.” 

“Kyphon’s song of loyalty?” Dimitri asked. 

“That one,” Felix said and Dimitri noticed the way that Felix’s cheeks began to glow as he said it. 

***

“You know,” Annette mused over the last cup of wine with dinner, “when they performed it in Enbarr, I’ve heard that they gave Kyphon a long dark wig.” 

“So?” Felix asked, clearly a little tipsy and trying not to show it. Dimitri hid his smile behind his glass as he raised it to his lips again. 

“So I’m pretty sure that historically speaking, Kyphon was a ginger,” Annette said with a giggle. She elbowed Felix in the ribs, a gesture only she would be bold enough to attempt with Felix. 

“Stop it,” Felix insisted. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

“It means that you’re Kyphon and Dimitri is Loo-oog,” Annette said, her voice a mocking sing-song where she extended the last syllable by several seconds. 

Dimitri raised his hand, preparing to object. But Felix did not. Instead, he merely shrugged. 

“Fine then,” Felix said. “Let them call us what they want. There’s less flattering comparisons they could make.” 

Dimitri felt stunned. 

“What are you grinning for, Dimitri?” Annette asked. “Oh dear, did we get you drunker than we meant?” 

***

“It is authentic,” Dimitri said as Felix tested the blade with a few swings. The entire court was assembled to watch. 

“It’s worn,” Felix noted, passing a hand over the ancient metal. “But the craftsmanship was sound.” 

“It was a blade of Kyphon, Felix,” Dimitri said firmly. “I should hope it was sound.” 

“Kyphon was fighting a war. I’m sure he broke many blades,” Felix said with a quirk of his brow. “Although not half as many as Loog, probably.” 

“So even now, you will not allow me to even touch-?”

“The Zoltan?” Felix laughed. “Never.” 

He tested the blade a few more times. Dimitri marvelled at the way it rested in his grip, like a deadly, elegant extension of his arm. 

“It will be difficult to best you after this,” Felix said, quieter. The courtiers leaned in to try to hear. 

“You always win when we spar with swords,” Dimitri replied. 

“No, I mean…” Felix paused. “How can I compete with a gift like this? All of Loog’s possessions are already in your treasury vault.” 

“I don’t need…” Dimitri began, but then stopped when he saw the glare on Felix’s face. “I mean to say, I have complete faith in your abilities.” 

***

The first sign of trouble occurred at the Rite of Rebirth. The archbishops ritual went uninterrupted, but at the state dinner that evening, there was a strange moment. 

“Duke Fraldarius,” Alois Rangeld of the Knights of Seiros was saying in greeting, “the king’s right hand! Or I suppose people are calling you the Kyphon to His Majesty’s Loog now.” 

Dimitri felt a smile twitch at his lip and Felix gave a tolerant shrug, denying nothing. 

And then Seteth began to choke on his goblet of wine and had to cough for several minutes into a napkin. 

“Is something the matter, Seteth?” Byleth asked mildly, looking over to the still wheezing man. 

“It’s nothing,” Seteth replied hoarsely. “I apologize.” 

“Is there something amusing to you about Kyphon and Loog?” Byleth pressed. Seteth shook his head. 

The conversation turned elsewhere, but Dimitri kept his attention on Seteth for a moment longer. His younger sister, Flayn, had leaned over to whisper something in his ear. 

“Absolutely not,” Seteth muttered back. “If you had met them… oh thank that Goddess that you never met them.” 

Dimitri had no idea what that was supposed to mean. He turned back to the banquet, to Felix sitting at his right hand. 

“My Kyphon, then?” he asked hesitantly. 

“It isn’t insulting,” Felix admitted. “To be compared to someone who used his skill so effectively.” 

“But I am not much of a Loog,” Dimitri said with a self-effacing smile. 

“You won the war,” Felix scowled. “You fit the role well enough.” 

Dimitri pressed his hand against the gryphon pin on his cloak and smiled and smiled. 

***

Dimitri rubbed his temples. His head felt close to splitting open. 

“Say it one more time,” he gritted out. 

Ashe shifted nervously in his seat before the king’s desk. Felix was pacing back and forth, his steps so aggressive that the floor shook slightly. 

“Ancient documents,” Ashe repeated, “found suppressed alongside many others in the library of Abyss.” 

“And?” Dimitri continued.

“Well, I thought you would like to know about the new chivalric romance,” Ashe said uncomfortably, “given that it concerns Kyphon and Loog and you have so publicly adopted the… symbolic weight of those figures.” 

“But the part about the…” Felix burst out, waving his hand around his head. “The other part.” 

“It does… the document is being evaluated right now for accuracy,” Ashe said apologetically. “It does go… more into detail than usual. About Kyphon and Loog.” 

“I don’t understand,” Dimitri said, unable to even look at Felix any longer. Ashe looked down and with a heavy sigh began to read. 

“ _ And verily, Kyphon didst arrive by nightfall at Loog’s tent and Loog said unto him, ‘thou hast been dripping my seed from thine ass all day out on the field of battle, wouldst thou have me upluggeth thy sumptuous hole now?’ And Kyphon did reply ‘nay fair king, mine ass hath not spilled a drop of thine seed, but thou wouldst thou eat of mine hole and remove it thyself.’ Loog then did but tap at his lover’s plugge and…”  _

“Don’t make me read any more of it aloud, Your Majesty, please,” Ashe finally begged, shoving the parchment towards Dimitri. “I had to copy it all down already.” 

“Not another line,” Felix said. His face was ghostly pale. 

Dimitri begged the Goddess that he would have no vision of his ghostly father asking questions about this particular incident later. 

“I mean…” Dimitri tried for a weak smile and managed only a grimace. “This is one ancient document. How many people will actually read it?” 

“Yuri has been making copies,” Ashe said apologetically. “The new letter presses, they make it… quite easy to share.” 

“It can’t actually say…” Felix stopped his pacing for a second to stare down at the parchment. “What could ‘milking’  _ possibly _ mean in this context?” 

“Please,” Ashe was close to begging. “I just enjoy literature. I’m not responsible for what it says.” 

“This is a disaster,” Dimitri said, looking miserably down at his desk. 

He heard Felix slam the door on his way out. 

***

_ The Romance of the Bedding of Kyphon _ , as it was now known, circulated in Fhirdiad by the end of the month. From what Dimitri heard, the opera he had commissioned only grew in popularity. 

While none of the courtiers seemed to want to admit to having read the wretched thing, Dimitri did hear several bawdy songs and bits of similarly inspired poetry begin to crop up. 

Apparently young noblemen now bragged of their own potency by comparing it to “Kyphon’s Safekeeping.” 

He heard a clown at a tavern belting out that the rain was drizzling down like the “Blessing of Kyphon.” 

A line in the very opera he had commissioned, where Loog swore valiantly to “pound away at the rear flank” was now met with uproarious laughter at every performance. 

Dimitri hardly saw Felix, who had suddenly noticed some urgent business in Fraldarius territory and had been gone since before the damned poem was even distributed. Dimitri’s gut twisted to even think of him. 

Of course he was offended. Of course. It only made sense. 

And if things hadn’t already been so delicate with him and Felix, then perhaps it would have been fine. Nothing but an amusing joke.

At least Sylvain seemed to think it was amusing. 

“It has to be a forgery,” Ingrid reassured him as the three of them were out riding, “and not a good one. It’s far too… lewd.” 

“You think people of the ancient past couldn’t be lewd?” Sylvain laughed. “My people have a rich history, Ingrid.” 

“It’s fine,” Dimitri said miserably, patting his horse on the neck. “Real or not, it has created a legacy.” 

“I’ll say,” Sylvain grinned. “You wouldn’t believe the things I hear the men and women of your court propositioning one another to do these days. Felix is really missing out.” 

Dimitri spurred his horse a little faster. 

“He still hasn’t written?” Ingrid asked, catching him up, concern evident in her voice. 

“I am sure that Duke Fraldarius is busy with urgent matters in his own territory,” Dimitri said stiffly. 

“Felix,” Sylvain said with an admonishing growl. “Typical. He reads one old poem with a word he doesn’t know, and suddenly he has to rush off to the coast to stomp around and glower at people until he gets his feelings in order.” 

“It’s because of me,” Dimitri sighed. “I began this whole mess. I just thought… well, I only ever meant to express my gratitude that he remained even after all that I have done.” 

“Maybe… um, is there already an opera about Blaiddyd and Fraldarius during the War of Heroes?” Ingrid suggested, trying and failing to be helpful. Sylvain snorted. 

“You tell him that, Ingrid, someone is gonna find a whole epic poem about Fraldarius sucking off Blaiddyd in front of the other eight elites,” Sylvain warned. 

“Sylvain!” Ingrid said, unable to swat at him accurately from horseback. 

“What?” Sylvain said in mock offense. “I’m finally taking an interest in scholarship. I thought you’d be proud!” 

When they arrived back at the stable, Dedue was waiting for him. He was the only person with the decency to be genuinely worried about what the repercussions of the whole event would be. 

“Was your ride restful?” Dedue asked as he helped Dimitri to wearily rub down his horse. 

Dimitri looked silently at him, waiting for the blow to fall. 

“Another letter enquiring if you are planning nuptials,” Dedue sighed, handing it over. “The Alliance lords are wondering if they ought to invest in teal dyes for the spring wool.” 

Dimitri stared down at the paper with no hope in his heart. 

***

Felix arrived back in Fhirdiad for the winter like a dark, furious stormcloud. He spoke in monosyllables and gave Count Rowe such a fright when he suddenly appeared round a corner, that the man had to be given a tonic for his nerves. 

For a few days, he managed to never encounter Dimitri. Finally, when he did finally manifest at the signing of a charter, the entire court went silent at his presence. 

“Any jokes?” Felix finally broke the silence, his voice icy. “Anyone here a scholar of literature?” 

The room was quiet. A cough echoed up to the high ceiling. Dimitri held his breath. 

“Alright then,” Felix said after the long silence. “Let’s work.” 

Dimitri released the breath slowly. Perhaps the damage was not as severe as he had thought. But still, an odd lump had formed in his throat. 

It was fine, he reassured himself. Felix had returned, had intimidated his way into allowing no mockery over the poem. Things could return to how they had been before. 

But… Dimitri thought as he swallowed hard and then cleared his throat, but how they had been before was distant. How they had been as just Dimitri and Felix had been so damaged and haunted and strained. They needed to be Kyphon and Loog, who held no such baggage to their names. No such baggage, but apparently an unconventional… eroticism. 

Dimitri signed the charter hard enough that he snapped the tip from his quill and left a rip in the paper. 

***

That evening, the guards let Felix into the royal apartments. Dimitri was drinking a cup of tea by the fire, rereading the same sentence in his book again and again without really understanding it. When the knock came, he started to his feet. 

Felix was still fully dressed in his courtly regalia and he held a long wooden box in his hands. 

“Felix,” Dimitri began, “I didn’t expect you.”

“Here,” Felix said, holding the box out stiffly. “I thought I should… I thought that you’d want it back.” 

Dimitri took the box as Felix stepped a few paces back. He lifted the lid. The sword, he realized. The ancient blade of Kyphon. Felix was returning it. 

“Oh,” Dimitri said, unable to stop his voice from sounding a bit thicker. “Oh, of course. Right.”

“Since it seemed like we weren’t…” Felix cleared his own throat, “that encouraging this association might be damaging to you.” 

“The pin,” Dimitri said, setting the box down on the table behind him and going to fumble about in his wardrobe. His eye was pricking uncomfortably and he was nearly blind as he searched through his clothes. The lump in his throat was growing large and painful. He tried to sniff back the wetness that he now felt at the tip of his nose. 

“You don’t have to,” Felix said quickly. “I don’t want it back. Keep it.” 

“No, no, it’s right here, I’m sure,” Dimitri said in a strangled voice, taking a quick moment to swipe his sleeve across his face. 

His shaking hands finally found a little wooden chest with the gryphon clasp laid carefully inside. He lifted it out, squeezed his eyes shut, and then finally turned back to Felix, holding it out. 

As Felix reluctantly reached for it, the heavy clasp slipped through Dimitri’s fingers and onto the floor. Both of them dropped to reach for it, Dimitri’s hand accidentally covering Felix’s as they both grabbed for the gryphon. 

Felix’s hand was very warm, rough and calloused, but his fingers were narrow and almost delicate. 

“Dimitri, I-” Felix began. “I’m sorry.” 

“Sorry?” Dimitri asked. He felt frozen. Felix hadn’t moved his hand yet. 

“I never wanted you to end up hurt by all of this. I’m the one to asked… who requested that Ashe look into finding older manuscripts. All for the idiotic spirit of competition.” Felix offered. “If my presence at court is undermining your efforts with unwelcome rumors, then I could leave.”

“Don’t,” Dimitri begged, unable to hold back his tears any longer. One of them spilled down over his cheek. “Please don’t leave, Felix, I’m so sorry. I never meant for any of this to offend you. I only ever wanted the association to be flattering, a sign of my… my admiration for you. But, if you can, please stay. Please. I’m not… I could never feel shame about being affiliated with you. In any context.”

Felix stared at him, his mouth slightly open, his golden brown eyes wide. Dimitri withdrew his hand and pressed it to his mouth, unable to believe he’d actually said those words. 

“I don’t find the comparison…” Felix finally spoke, his words coming out very jerky. “Entirely… unappealing.”

Now it was Dimitri’s turn to freeze. 

“Even the part about the-?” Dimitri finally started. 

“Even that,” Felix said, his face turning so red it was nearly purple. 

Dimitri blinked at him for a few more seconds. 

And then Felix pounced on him, knocking him back onto the floor, and kissing him so fiercely that Dimitri felt himself going lightheaded. 

***

“It is beautiful,” Dimitri said politely, looking down at the unwrapped box in his hands. “Um… what is it?” 

“My gift,” Felix growled. “How do you not…?” 

“No, I think I understand,” Dimitri said. “It’s a sort of… little tree… statue?” 

“It is not,” Felix said, sounding murderous, “a ‘little tree statue.’” 

“Oh,” Dimitri said, examining the box once again. “Wait.  _ Felix _ ?” 

“I’m choosing this,” Felix said hastily, his glowering face belied by the flush creeping up his neck. “It isn’t some involuntary legacy. It’s just a… an inspiration.”

“I believe that I must concede, then,” Dimitri said, his mouth suddenly going very dry, “I do not believe I can surpass this gift.” 

***

“Is Felix ill?” Ingrid asked as the door rattled behind him. 

“No, just tired, I believe,” Dimitri said, and then made an exaggerated yawn. “Perhaps he is right. This meeting has lasted quite long enough. I will go to bed.” 

“It’s only the ninth bell,” Ingrid said doubtfully. “I thought we were going to discuss the spring tournament…” 

Suddenly, Sylvain began laughing so hard that wine sprayed out of his nose, distracting Ingrid effectively enough that Dimitri could slip out of the room. 

Felix was waiting for him on their bed, his face pressed into a pillow and his hips raised. 

“Get it out,” he snarled as soon as he heard Dimitri enter. 

“Is everything alright?” Dimitri asked gently. 

“Everything is fine,” Felix snapped. “I’m about to lose it and I just felt some of your… it’s on my leg.” 

Dimitri sat gently on the bed and slid Felix’s trousers down over his legs. Felix whined as the fabric tugged across his cock, flushed and hard and dripping with need. 

“Ah, yes,” Dimitrir said, rubbing his thumb curiously over Felix’s inner thigh. “I see.” 

“Dimitri, you either get this thing out of me right now, or I’m going to… ah...” Felix said very rapidly. 

He seemed to lose the ability to speak coherent words as Dimitri gently pressed on the base of the plug. His legs were shaking so hard, it was miraculous he hadn't collapsed on the mattress. 

Slowly, Dimitri withdrew it and watched with fascination as some of the lubricant suspended for a moment between the tip and Felix’s twitching hole. 

“Shall we do a reenactment?” Dimitri asked. “For historical research?” 

“No, no reenactment,” Felix managed to gasp into the pillow as his body shuddered. “I don’t want… I just want you. I don’t want to be Kyphon, just let me be-” 

“Felix,” Dimitri said, so much longing in the name as he spoke it. 

Then he lowered his face down, fingers digging into the finely developed muscles of Felix’s thighs, and lapped at his hole, cleaning up their earlier mess. 

Felix screamed into the pillow, a sound unlike anything Dimitri had ever heard from him before, and came untouched onto his stomach and the sheets below. 

It took a while of lying curled together before Felix seemed to be very coherent again. 

“We never did discuss the spring tournament,” he mumbled into Dimitri’s chest.

“You held out very valiantly,” Dimitri reassured him, stroking a few strands of dark hair tenderly from his eyes. 

“Of course,” Felix scoffed. “But I meant to say… I thought that I might fight with Kyphon’s blade.” 

“Are you certain?” Dimiitri asked slowly. “Nothing would make me happier, but it will declare before the whole court that you…” 

“Enjoy reading,” Felix finished the sentence.

“Yes,” Dimitri smiled and pressed Felix closer. “That we both love reading.” 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> apologies to Seteth xx


End file.
